Every Day Is Another Life
by gooseles
Summary: Daveny Lunde is the daughter of a legend. Daveny is in a relationship with a sexy wrestler. She wakes up in the morning next to the love of her life, good guy Seth Rollins where life is a perfect dream. The next morning she wakes with Dean Ambrose in a world unbridled passion, drama, and chaos. Which man does she belong with? And more importantly, which life is real?
1. Welcome To My Worlds

**Author's Note: This idea came to me based on a previous story I wrote on here years ago as well as a TV show I came across on NBC last year. I am a new fan of Dean Ambrose and Seth Rollins so my characterization is based on imagination and research. I do not own the WWE or the characters of Ambrose and Rollins and any other trademarked WWE "characters" that will appear in this story. This is fiction and not meant to be taken seriously or offend anyone, most especially Jon Good or Colby Lopez. Thanks, guys...**

They say that every day is a different life. For me, that is more than just a philosophy, more than just some resolution style hope in an effort to become a better human being. Every day really is a different life…literally.

My name is Daveny Camille Lunde. I was born in Atlanta, Georgia on February 15, 1986. I have an older brother named Barrett and a younger brother named Brock. My mother is Erin. My father, Martin, is a legend.

The name Martin Lunde may not ring a bell…unless you are a die hard pro wrestling fan. You know, wrestling. As in WWE, TNA, ECW, WCW, ROH…NWA. Ric Flair, The Rock, Stone Cold Steve Austin, Hulk Hogan, John Cena. Sound familiar now? I thought so. Martin Lunde is his real name. His stage name is Arn Anderson, proud member of the legendary Anderson dynasty and proud affiliate of one of the most infamous stables (no pun intended) in the sport, The Four Horsemen. The truth is, in the land of kayfabe, the Anderson's never were a real family. It was a concocted story in the name of entertainment and storyline. And it worked. They have been legendary for years. My father is a Hall of Famer.

I know who I am. I look in the mirror and I see the reflection staring back. 5 foot 8 inches tall. 120 pounds. Long brunette hair, hazel eyes flecked with green. I am not a gym buff but I take care of myself. I played around in the ring a few times but my father frowned upon it. He did not want me to follow in his footsteps. Neither did my mom. So I didn't train to be a wrestler. I guess in the end, that is not what I wanted either.

I had a happy childhood. My parents are still together. I love them and my brothers. My dad has a lot of money. Charlotte, North Carolina is the place where he calls home, even though he spends tons of time on the road with the WWE as a mentor to the talent. So much for retirement, huh? He works behind the scenes and the guys and gals really look up to him. He cares about people. He cares about wrestling. I know all about my dad's storied career. I know about his injuries and health problems. In "real time", that is one of the few things still clear to me.

That is all I know for certain.

This is one side of the coin…

Every morning, like all of you, I wake up. The alarm clock goes off and thus begins my day. I wake up and a beautiful man named Colby Lopez is beside me. He is my boyfriend of the past four years. He is tall, dark, and handsome. He is a hard worker, a man's man, a talented dreamer from the most humble of beginnings. He is a professional wrestler. He just got signed to the WWE. And that was his goal. I can remember every day of the last four years with him. I remember the first time I ever saw him, the first words we ever spoke to each other. I remember the first date, the first kiss…the first time we made love…and every other time thereafter. I have been by Colby's side every day. I watched him work his ass off. I have been there for the good, the bad, and the ugly. There have been some tears but mostly happiness. He is a wonderful man, a dream guy and he's all mine. When he smiles at me, when he touches me, I feel like the luckiest, most special woman in the world.

I work for the WWE, too. I have a strong Southern accent…I'm talking Gone With The Wind. Vince McMahon likes that. And Vince is the boss. What he says goes without question so when he told me he wanted me to start announcing matches, that was my new job. I love the travel. I love dressing up real pretty and standing in front of thousands of people. I love the hair and the makeup and the attention, knowing that millions more are watching me on television. I love making my daddy proud.

I wake up, I work, I spend time with my family, I spend time with Colby. My days are long but beautiful. At night I lay next to him and he holds me. We make love and I fall asleep in his arms. I hold him tight, tighter than most because I know that when my eyes open, tomorrow is a new day and when the morning comes, he will be gone.

This is the other side of the coin…

Every morning, like all of you, I wake up. The alarm clock goes off and thus begins my day. If he bothered to come home from a wild night of partying, I wake up and a sexy man named Jonathan Good is beside me. He is my boyfriend of the past four years. He is tall, toned, and handsome. He is a hard worker, a man's man, rough around the edges, the product of the most troubled of environments. He is a professional wrestler. He has been an Indy wrestler for years and he has owned every promotion he ever worked for. If you Google the name Jon Moxley, the name he wrestles under, you will see why. He just signed with the WWE/NXT/FCW territory. It is the development that breeds the next set of big Superstars for the WWE. I guess every guy that dons a pair of trunks has the ultimate goal to make it to the WWE. It is the wrestling promised land, the pinnacle of the sports entertainment industry. Jon wanted it, even if he says he doesn't. He's not too cool for the WWE and besides, check cashing is his favorite past time, right along with wrestling, boozing, and womanizing.

I can remember every day of the last four years with him. I remember the first time I ever saw him, the first words we ever spoke to each other. I remember the first date, the first kiss…the first time we made love…and every other time thereafter. I have been by Jon's side every day...as much as any one human being can "be" with Jon. I watched him work his ass off. I have been there for the good, the bad, and the ugly. There have been some awesome times but mostly heartache. Despite his flaws, and there are many, I am madly, deeply in love with him. Every day, every moment is a fight against booze, against drugs, against the many demons of his past, against a violent and fierce temper, against the passion of wrestling that consumes him to ensure that he is all mine. When he grins at me, when he touches me, I feel like the luckiest, most special woman in the world. When things between us are great, they are awesome. When it's bad, it is beyond any nightmare you could ever imagine.

I work as a waitress in a hole in the wall dive that sells beer and greasy bar food. It beats my last gig…I used to be a stripper. I guess I sort of lost my way for a while. Every second of every minute is a struggle…to get my life together, to keep my head above water…just to survive. I hate it. I hate our shitty apartment. I hate that I still crave the influence of drugs that almost destroyed my life. I hate Tampa, Florida. I hate the ring rats that throw themselves at my man. I hate my job. I hate the bad choices I have made. I hate the fact that I have disappointed my parents time and time again and that I barely have a relationship with my family.

I wake up, I work, I vow this is the day I will not relapse, I fight with Jon, I make up with Jon. My days are long and exhausting. At night I lay next to him and he holds me. We make love and I fall asleep in his arms. I hold him tight, tighter than most because I know that when my eyes open, tomorrow is a new day and when the morning comes, he will be gone.

This is my life. Some kind of fucked up parallel universe. It flows like clockwork. I lead two lives. One day is spent with Colby. When that day ends, no matter what happens, I know that when I awake the next day, I will be with Jon. And so forth and so forth. I don't know why this happens. I can't even remember when or how it started. For the past four, years, I have clear and consistent memories with both men, of both lives. And those two worlds never collide, never mix. Each existence is a complete stranger to the other.

It's like I am two different people. The problem is, I don't know which one is real.


	2. Seth Rollins

The alarm clock sounded. 6:45 a.m.

Daveny Lunde heard the distinct sound of the beeping. Most people in that position would pull the covers over their head and cling to the last few remnants of sleep. Not Daveny. The alarm clock was the soundtrack to her young life. It always signaled more than just the beginning of a new day.

She lifted her head, brunette hair that fell past her shoulders was slightly tussled. The thin white sheets shifted when she moved, exposing the soft curve of her bare breast. Her eyes focused as she took a look at the strong male frame lying next to her. Her breath caught in her throat. His back was to her but he rolled over immediately, grinning warmly as he did so.

Long dark hair with a splash of a wildly contrasting blonde streak. He normally kept it in a ponytail or pulled back somehow, especially when it was time for bed. He had large, expressive brown eyes, a full beard that shaped his masculine jaw line and perfect teeth that he often showcased with a shy smile or goofy laugh. His body was perfect. Six foot, one inch and 209 pounds of nothing but toned, tanned muscle. He was a specimen of perfection…except for his feet. His long toes had been the brunt of many a lighthearted joke. But Daveny wasn't in love with his feet. She adored him, weird looking toes and all.

"Good morning, beautiful."

His voice was still groggy from sleep but no matter what, he never, ever forgot to tell her how beautiful she was. He never forgot to show it. And everything he said, everything he did, could be seen in his eyes.

"Morning, baby," she said softly.

Daveny just studied his gorgeous face. She ran her slender, manicured finger over his forehead, his nose, his lips. She had memorized every line, every curve.

"Sleep well?" he asked.

He always asked that question and she never had a true answer for him because it was an unbelievable story behind it all, one best kept to herself.

"Yeah," she nodded. "I did."

"Sorry for the early wake up call but you know we have a lot to do today before we catch our flight. I wanted to go to Home Depot and pick up some stuff. Besides, Ikea had that home delivery today…"

Daveny did not have to look around to know exactly what he was talking about. They had just moved into a spacious loft apartment in one of the trendiest sections of uptown Charlotte. It was blocks away from the arena and a quick drive over to the stadium. Daveny was familiar with the area and loved it. It was a great city, her city, one full of art, history, and culture. Most of all, it was less than a half an hour to where her family resided.

The loft was unfurnished. There was a large air mattress on the floor of the master bedroom and a 50-inch flat screen. Everything else would have to be bought or delivered at a later date. They were working on it, feverishly, though life working for the WWE often meant more days on the road than at home. That gave little time to put together and decorate a new residence but Daveny and her boyfriend, Colby, were doing the best they could.

"No, no, it's okay. I, um…I'm excited to start unpacking and getting everything together. I will do what I can and finish the rest when I get back. It should be fine in a few weeks. It'll be nice to finally stop living out of boxes."

"We."

She made a face.

"We what?"

He smoothed a strand of hair out of her face.

"You don't have to do any of this alone, baby. It's _our _place. It's gonna be a lot of hard work getting it all straight but I don't ever want you to feel like you're in this alone. We will do everything together. I will help you with whatever you need me to. We're a team…remember?"

Coming out of any other mouth, that might have seemed too much. Corny. Cheesy. But when Colby said it, it was just genuine. It was sweet. In private he was terribly funny, incredibly sweet, and sensitive. The man wore his heart on his sleeve. He wasn't afraid to dream. He wasn't afraid to cry. He was passionate about life and the friends and family that were so much a part of it. He was the most loyal individual she had ever met. When he committed to something, he gave his all. Daveny knew he would always be there for her…never leave her, never disrespect or hurt her. Never, ever cheat on her. That side of Colby Lopez was a striking mix of comparison and contrast to what Seth Rollins did for a living.

Seth was a wrestler. A rassler, if you will. And a damned good one. He had a youthful style and he had spent hours in the gym and years with several reputable Independent promotions perfecting all those Moonsaults, Suicide Dives, and Shooting Star Presses. His boundless good nature and humility solidified his status as one of the most well liked and respected athletes in the locker room. The female fans loved him because he was sexy, the male fans liked him because of his knack for showmanship and high flying. The children loved him because he was the ultimate good guy, a real life super hero that they could look up to. He had mastered the art of shaking hands, taking pictures, and kissing babies.

During his time in the Indys, wrestling as Tyler Black, he had befriended fellow wrestler, Matthew Korklan, known as Matt Sydal and better known as Evan Bourne. It was the connection that had catapulted him straight to the WWE. Not to take away from his talent but sometimes in the world of politics, it did not matter how good you were but it was all about who you knew. Matt got Colby in the door and it was there that he caught the eye of Martin "Arn Anderson" Lunde. A seasoned Veteran with an eye for picking out the most promising up and comers. He would have to pay his dues like everyone else but it was Arn who was instrumental in getting him signed. It was Arn who pushed for every dark match, who had him train with John Cena and CM Punk. He always said that Colby was like another son to him. And on the inevitable day when Colby and Daveny would finally marry, that wish would become reality.

"God, I love you," she looked deeply into his eyes.

"I love you, too."

She took his larger hand into hers and kissed the fingertips.

"Where are we going again?"

"Tulsa. Then Oklahoma City and finally Lincoln, Nebraska. We're supposed to meet Matt at the airport in Tulsa because the rental car reservation is in his name. I am praying he did better than a Chevy Aveo hatchback this time," he joked.

"Yeah, Um, Tulsa. That's right. Sorry. I forgot."

"It's cool. The cities kind of start to all blend together after a while anyway."

"Yeah…"

Colby raised up on one elbow.

"Everything okay?" he asked with a hint of concern.

"Everything's perfect, babe" she forced a smile. "Why do you ask?"

"I don't know, you just look sad, that's all. I don't want you to be. I want you to be happy. And I want you to talk to me. You know that, right?" he placed a gentle kiss atop her forehead. "You know you can always talk to me about anything, right?"

Daveny sighed. Anything?

"Colby?"

"Yeah baby?"

"Do you ever…"

"What?"

"Never mind. It's silly."

"No. Tell me."

"Do you ever, I don't know, do you ever get the feeling like I'm not here?"

He looked at her and for a few split seconds she saw an understanding in his eyes like he knew exactly what she meant, what she was saying.

"What do you mean?"

She bit her lip. It was a silly thought. And an even stranger question.

"Nothing. Never mind."

"Daveny…"

"I don't even know where that came from. I'm just tired."

"You're here," he answered. "You are here," he pointed to his head. "Because you are always on my mind…you are here," he pointed to his eyes. "Because I see you, I see us in every aspect of my, our future. You are here," he pointed to his heart. "Because I love you with everything that I have and am." He pointed to his hands. "You are here because I hold you, I protect you."

"Aawww, babe. That is the sweetest thing I have ever heard…" tears filled Daveny's eyes.

"And you're here," he grabbed her hand and pulled it under the covers to feel the warmth and thickness of his naked desire for her.

Daveny burst into a fit of giggles.

"Oh I am there, huh?"

"You are definitely there!"

"Uh huh…"

"Because I want to…"

"Way to ruin a romantic moment, you horn dog" she playfully hit him with the pillow.

He growled and chuckled as they wrestled, ending with him pulling her on top of his body. Their shared laughter faded as their eyes met. She could stare at him forever and the feeling was more than mutual. She twirled her finger in his long hair.

"I love you, Daveny," he whispered. "I really love you."

"I love you, too."

"And I just want you to be okay. This…" he looked around. "All this is just the beginning for us, baby. This place, our careers…it is everything I have ever wanted. When I was a little kid growing up in Iowa, I had big dreams. I knew I wasn't gonna be average. I knew I was destined for bigger things. And I worked hard at it. I busted my ass. A lot of blood, sweat, and tears. Every time I got to go out and live my dream in front of people…it didn't matter if it was 12, 1200 or 12000. Making people smile. Having the men I grew up idolizing, like your dad…having them show me respect. And finding love. True love with a beautiful, smart, loving wonderful woman. Daveny, I couldn't have scripted it any better. It's perfect. You're perfect. Life is perfect…and I just want to spend it with you. Forever."

"You will. We will."

"You promise?"

"I promise."

"You're okay?"

"I'm fine. I didn't mean to worry you. I guess I wasn't feeling well…but um, I have a feeling that everything is going to be okay."

"I will always be here to take care of you. No matter what happens, no matter where we go. I just want you to take care of yourself."

Daveny smiled at him.

"I will take care of this," she pointed to her head as they both laughed. "Because you don't want to be with a crazy broad. And I'll take care of these…" she pointed to her ears. "Because they will always be here to listen to you." She pointed to her hands and his chest, then to her own chest. "I will take care of these so that I might always be able to hold your heart…I hold it in my heart, Colby."

"And this," he pointed to her stomach. "Take care of this, cause one day…our babies are gonna grow in there."

She captured his sweet lips in her own.

"I love you. I love you, I love you, I love you and today…it's gonna be a beautiful day."

"Cheers to that."

"Colby?"

"Yes, my love?"

"Can we just skip all the errand running and postpone furniture delivery? I just want to lay in bed and eat Banana Cream Greek Yogurt and make love with you."

"Sounds like a pretty fucking awesome day," he smiled. "Anything you want."

He held her close and she lost herself in his embrace. They fit together so perfectly in every way. There was nothing more perfect. When she was with him, all that mattered was each other, the cocoon of an existence that they had safely created where nothing and no one could hurt them. It was her life, their life. The Seth life.


	3. Dean Ambrose

The alarm clock sounded. 1:00 p.m.

Daveny Lunde heard the distinct sound of the beeping. Most people in that position would pull the covers over their head and cling to the last few remnants of sleep. Not Daveny. The alarm clock was the soundtrack to her young life. It always signaled more than just the beginning of a new day.

She lifted her head, brunette hair that stopped about an inch above her shoulders was matted and in desperate need of a washing. That was what usually happened when you partied for 48 hours straight. The winter blanket shifted when she moved, causing her tee shirt to rise up her flat stomach. It exposed the tattoo on her side, along with the full arm left sleeve and the colorful half one that adorned her right one. Her eyes focused as she took a look at the strong male frame lying next to her. She was actually surprised to see him there. Surprised but happy. His back was to her and he slept like a log, snoring heavily.

Short strawberry blonde hair, way more strawberry than blond, quite ginger, depending on who you were asking. The front had started to grow out into a hellacious set of man bangs but as far as he was concerned, he had the coolest hair in the world. He had blue eyes that would have been beautiful had they not been so beady and dangerous looking. He had perfect teeth that he often showcased with a sarcastic smirk or goofy laugh. His body was constantly changing but for the moment, it was perfect. Six foot, four inches and 225 pounds of nothing but toned, tanned muscle. He was in the best shape of his life. Freshly recovered from the bloated face and gut that was the result of one too many drinks and about a hundred too many pills.

Daveny crawled over to him. Her fingertips traced the line from the nape of his neck to the top of his tailbone. His breathing remained labored and in some scary instances it seemed to stop altogether. She let her lips replace where her fingers had been. She loved the taste of him on her lips and tongue. He was a turn on like no other. Moaning softly, she nipped at his shoulder.

"Why are you hovering over me?" came the mid-western laced accent, heavy with sleep, mumbled by a messy stash of covers and pillows.

Daveny rolled her eyes.

"Good morning to you, too. Or should I say afternoon."

"Whatever."

He wasn't budging.

"Jon…" she called his name, in almost a pleading manner for his attention.

"Daveny…" he called out her name, voice still muffled but nevertheless sarcastic and mocking.

"Wake up, baby."

"Why?"

He groaned and cursed to himself. It was no use. Sleep was no more. She was relentless.

"What are you doing?" she asked with a satisfied smile as she leaned over and placed a peck on his lips.

"Being bothered by you."

"It is time to get up," she tickled the underside of his slightly rippled stomach.

"Fuck me," he struggled to sit up. "What time is it? What fucking day is it?"

"Sunday," she yawned.

He stretched his long arms and reached over for the half drank Yeungling, that was still warm and waiting on the nearby nightstand.

"Goddamned, it's bright in here," he made a face as he took a swig.

Daveny stared at him.

"Babe…"

"What?"

"Jon."

"What are you looking at?"

"Hold me."

"I'm not holding you."

"Why not?"

"Why not? Because it's fucking hot in here, that's why."

Daveny shot him a mean look.

"It's like 50 degrees outside."

"I'm from Cincinatti. That's hot."

"Well welcome to Florida, asshole," she threw a pillow at him that he caught.

He gave her that shit eating grin and instantly she was putty in his hands.

"Relax, I'm just fucking with you. Come here."

Daveny never made him beg. He wrapped an arm around her and he looked into her eyes. He gave her a nod…_the _nod before tilting her chin up and kissing her. His tongue was cold and wet. He tasted of stale beer and probably the Doritos he had snacked on the night before but she didn't care. They had been doing this a long time. That cutesy new couple honeymoon stage, way short lived for them, if existent at all, had long passed. Nevertheless she studied his face. He wasn't cute. He wasn't beautiful. He was hot. He was ruggedly handsome. He was sexy, if you were into the bad boy kind of thing. And everything about him was bad. Even those blue eyes. Especially those eyes. They were dangerous looking. Once she and Jon walking to some place in the suburbs minding their own business, had approached an elderly lady who was so horrified by his size and precarious looks and Daveny's plethora of tattoos, that she just handed over her purse because she just knew the two were going to rob her. For shits and giggles, they actually took it.

Daveny ran her slender finger over his forehead, his nose, his lips. She had memorized every line, every curve.

"So fucking sexy…" she whispered.

"Why you being weird? Why are you acting weird first thing in the morning? Who does that?"

"It's not first thing in the morning, I already told you. I want you to hold me."

"I am holding you."

"I want you to cuddle me."

"What if I don't want to cuddle you?"

"Who gives a fuck what you want? Cuddle, goddammit!"

He rolled over onto his side.

"Go away."

"No."

"_Leave me alone, Jenny"_, he tried his best Forrest Gump voice.

Jon had a wacky and albeit sick sense of humor but a lot of the time, he was actually funny. He was a master at impersonation. Most of the time, Daveny thought it was cute unless when they were making out and he wouldn't stop doing his Dusty Rhodes voice. That one got on her fucking nerves.

She looked around at the messy bedroom. They lived in an apartment in Tampa. Daveny had longed for something nicer, with perhaps a bay view but Jon had quickly vetoed that idea. No way was he gonna pay all that money just to look at some motherfucking water, as he had so nicely put it. The place they ended up getting wasn't bad. It was definitely an upgrade from their last gig. That had damned near been the projects. But Jon had grown up in that life and said it wasn't that bad. He found it amusing that some little rich bitch had the nerve to call anything "ghetto". She didn't know shit about the ghetto. But she had carried on so much that for the sake off his own sanity, he had given in and moved. Out of the "ghetto" but not to the waterfront. Jon called it a compromise. Daveny called it bullshit.

It wasn't like they were poor or anything. But they weren't rich either. Not even well off but he made enough from wrestling to keep food on the table and a decent roof over their heads. It was still developmental wrestling. He only worked for the Cream of the Crop promotions but Indys were Indys. And that meant that Daveny did not have the luxury of sitting home on her ass all day getting massages and manicures. She didn't have a lot of marketable employment skills. She was a college dropout. She was covered in tattoos and weird piercings. But she had a smoking hot body. It was either dance or bar tend/wait tables. The latter seemed to be the most appealing option.

Jon took some territorial male pride that his girl didn't _have _to strip. Hell, he knew some dudes that weren't making shit. Strippers, especially hot ones, pulled in good cash. Some of those guys depended on their girls' income. Not him. Of course Daveny was stripping when he met her. That was how they met in fact. In a seedy strip club in Peoria, Illinois. She was bad ass and apart of him liked that. A part of him got off on knowing that all the guys wanted to fuck his girl but they could never have her. Ever. Daveny wasn't having it. She was loyal, ride or die. And even if she wasn't, he would kill a motherfucker with his bare hands for just looking at her wrong or too long.

The other part of him was fiercely jealous and protective. His girl was too good to shake her ass, tits, and pussy in front of drunken losers. That was for him only. It was a bit of a contradiction. Sometimes he was a walking contradiction in life. He liked skanks and well…at times, Daveny could be considered a bit of a skank. Banging skanks was a coping mechanism for him. It was comfortable, familiar. It was a constant reminder of the hard knock life he was so accustomed to. But the skanks weren't enough to keep him. They didn't hold his heart. And Daveny definitely held his heart. Beneath it all…the potty mouth, the pretty face, the tats and the "don't fuck with me" exterior…she was a sweet, wounded, vulnerable, extremely kind little girl. He loved that about her.

The biggest part of the contradiction was his view on loyalty. He was a man who had been betrayed his whole life. He trusted no one…not even his own mother. But in his adult life, he had found friends, formed solid bonds with a few people he could trust. Daveny was one of them. He would kill for her. He would give his own life to protect her. He would never leave her. But he wouldn't stop sleeping around with other women either. It just wasn't in him and one thing had nothing to do with the other, as far as he was concerned. Those other women were just physical gratification, ego boosts, fun, part of the Indy wrestling rite of passage. It had nothing to do with Daveny and everything to do with him. And no matter if it was her, a crack whore from his past, a hooker, or some ring rat, no matter how hard he tried, he just couldn't fuck the past away. And tried he did.

But if you thought Jon Good was crazy, you should have met his alter egos, Mox and Dean Ambrose. The characters of Jon were actual extensions of Jon as a man. Both were wild with a thirst for violence and fun that all seemed to comfortably combine. He had been born in Ohio and had lived a tough life filled with drugs, neglect and more hardships that any innocent child should ever have to see. Wrestling became his escape as a teenager. He got his start in Heartland Wrestling Association and his career had taken off from there. The last stop on the train was TNA or WWE. It didn't get any better than that. And being picked up by FCW/NXT, it meant that he was well on his way. All he had to do was keep drawing the crowds, keep tearing up the mic, keep wrestling his ass off. Hell, that was the easy part. He could do that in his sleep. The hard part was staying out of trouble, laying off the alcohol, staying clean off drugs or at least being crafty enough to pass the piss tests.

He was known for his skilled technique, his penchant for over the top gore, and mostly for his mic skills. Jon Good/Jon Moxley/Dean Ambrose could talk with the best of them. Some of his best promos had been based on his own life experiences. He was an open book, not ashamed of it but one could tell that some aspects still deeply affected him. He buried certain memories but all of it had made him the man, even the success that he was.

Not to take away from his talent but sometimes in the world of politics, it did not matter how good you were but it was all about who you knew. Surprisingly, Jon had a very deep WWE connection. Unbeknown to him when they first hooked up, Daveny was the daughter of wrestling royalty. Her father was still very active with Vince McMahon. But his relationship with his only daughter was strained, at best. Her choice of a boyfriend only further complicated matters. Martin "Arn Anderson" Lunde didn't give a hoot in hell how good Dean Ambrose was. As far as he was concerned, Jon Good wasn't worth the gum stuck to a side of a shoe and that he was a detriment to his delinquent child's already troubled life.

"You want me to make you something to eat?" she offered. "I got work at 4."

"Don't bother. I feel like shit. Probably gonna smoke a bowl later and go back to sleep. I'll eat some Ramen or something. My head is killing me, fucking pounding."

"Alright."

Jon frowned.

"Why do you look all sad all of a sudden?"

She shrugged.

"I'm good. Just tired. I'll be home late. Are you gonna be here when I get back tonight?"

"I don't know. Maybe."

"Maybe?"

"I guess so."

"Whatever, Jon."

"Don't nag me."

It was no use anyway.

"I love you," she said softly as she played with his hair.

"You too."

"Babe?"

"Hmmm?"

"Can I ask you something weird?"

"What?"

"Do you ever get the feeling, like, I don't know, like I'm not here?"

He raised his head.

"You mean like when I'm passed out?"

Daveny sighed.

"No, Jon. Never mind."

"Come on. The fuck kind of question is that?"

"It's…never mind."

"Come here," he licked his lips.

"Why?"

"Because if you are here now, I would totally like to have sexual intercourse with you," he managed to keep a straight face.

"You're a dick."

"Yes, I do have one of those. And it is super hard right now despite the fact that my chick is a complete space cadet."

She couldn't help but laugh as he pulled her close and they kissed.

"I love you, Jon."

"You too."

"No," she grabbed his face. "Say it. Say the words. Not just 'you too'. You know I hate that shit. I want to hear you say it."

He grabbed her and rolled them both so that he was on top.

"I love you. I love Daveny Lunde."

There was something about the way he called her name.

"Say it again," she whispered.

He knew exactly what she wanted to hear.

"Daveny," he repeated in a softer tone.

He held her close and she lost herself in his embrace. They fit together so perfectly in every way. There was nothing more perfect. When she was with him, all that mattered was each other, the cocoon of an existence that they had safely created where nothing and no one could hurt them. It was her life, their life. The Dean life.


	4. Best Of Both Worlds

So what do you think so far? This is some crazy shit, right? I know you're probably confused. That's okay…I am, too. Join the club. When I am living my lives, I really don't think about it much, you know, in the moment. I don't have the time. If I do, then I am taking away those precious moments from Colby. Or from Jon. And I never want to do that. So my time for ponder and reflection comes now…here. When I am trapped between worlds so to speak, in some kind of mystical waiting room. Don't get all freaked out. It's not science fiction or horror. There are no ghosts or aliens. It's just…well, it's just me. Me and my thoughts.

So we are clear on what happens at night. If you haven't figured it out yet, sleep is my portal. So I never take naps throughout the day or evening. Ever. I can't risk it, I am afraid to take the chance. Because when I fall asleep, I come here. The minute my eyes close and my body drifts into slumber…well my mind, my soul drifts into a living purgatory, so to speak. You dream. I don't. I sit here and think. Until it is a new day, time to wake up. And when I wake, I am somewhere else, with either Colby or Jon. I'm used to it…as much as one could get used to it. It's a routine and I don't want to rock the boat. I don't want to throw anything off. I know you're asking why. I mean, what's the worst that could happen? For me, that is to find my reality, which means I will lose either Colby or Jon. I could not bear the thought.

Yeah, I said it. I don't want to know which life is real. I am happy with the way things are. I like it. I have to admit that. It is the best of both worlds, so to speak. Colby and Jon together make up the perfect man in a perfect world. In my own two worlds, they are still perfect…for the lives we lead, for me.

When I am with Colby…it's great. Who could complain with a guy like that? You know? You saw him. You know what our life together is like. What woman in her right mind would not want to be with someone like him? I mean, you have eyes, you can see how gorgeous he is. Trust me, he is just as beautiful on the inside. I swear I don't think a purer soul exists. I love talking to him. We do it all the time. And it could go on forever and if it did, that would be okay because I know we would never run out of things to say to each other.

When I am with him, I feel so safe. It is literally picture perfect. Well, nothing is perfect but it gets pretty damned close. We occasionally disagree. Just normal couple stuff. And he struggles on the road. There are some…issues and it has bruised his confidence a little. It gets hard. He deals with it though. And I am by his side every step of the way. We get through it together.

I am so proud of him. Just seeing him evolve in his career. This is his dream. He is so happy. That moment in the Gorilla when he is dressed in his trunks, his boots are all laced up…his hair is dripping wet. That passion fuels him, this tangible fire burns in his eyes. I can feel it. I feel it for him. There is like a magic in the air. Ask any wrestler from the top WWE draw to the guy having his first Indy match in front of five people out in a barn in the middle of corn country. It doesn't matter. They play your music and the adrenaline gets pumping and it's pure magic. There is no other feeling quite like it. It's magic. I see it in Colby's eyes just like I saw it in my daddy's eyes all those years growing up.

I think my dad kind of re-lives those glory days vicariously through my boyfriend. Colby will have a good match and my dad will put his arm around him and say in his heavy accent, "You did a find job, there, son." Sometimes they look like a happier couple than we do. I know I am going to marry Colby someday. We're already talked about it. That gives my family some measure of ease. They are old school Southern Baptist and very traditional. They like him a lot but they frown upon us living together. They accept it though because they know that we are made for each other.

You saw how gentle and loving and sweet Colby is. And uh…I guess you caught a glimpse of Jon as well. I know, I know. You don't even have to say it. I know what you're thinking. And I get it. You think I am a mess first of all. Yes, that offends me but I concede that it's a little true. I'm a bad girl with a good heart. Lord knows I have made my share of stupid mistakes. I try but I can't stop fucking up. Nobody understands that. They think I make excuses, that I wallow in self-pity, that I live for the drama and misery of it all. Yeah, that's what you would see, looking from the outside in, I suppose. It does look that way. But things aren't always what they appear.

You think Jon is crude. Abrasive. Sarcastic. He is all of those things. And if you're waiting for me to break the news that he has these sweet, sensitive rainbow and unicorn moments, well, you're about to be vastly disappointed. That shit only happens on TV. Not our life.

He is what he is and he is who he is and he makes no apologies for any of it. Don't get me wrong…he has some fine moments. It's not all bad. He's funny as hell and he knows how to have a good time. Nobody parties like Jon Good. I like that about him. We're compatible. He is a mess, too. A hot one. And that's why we get along so well. I know that he understands me. And nobody in my life ever understood me before, never took the time to try. But he does and it just comes natural. He is a good man in his own way and I love him for it.

And yes, I know there is more to life and sustaining a good relationship than partying and having great sex. By the way, the sex is fan-fucking-tastic! He is an amazing lover. But we talk too. We connect. We're like two peas in a pod. He tells me about his past and it makes me want to cry for him but he won't let me. Jon doesn't want my pity. He does not want anyone's pity so don't you feel sorry for him. He has come to terms with the past even though the scars still run deep. I have my own scars, my own pair. I guess it is the scar tissue that bonds us together.

My favorite thing is to see him wrestle. He's so good. The talk is, he is the next big thing. I hope so. He deserves it. He is a brawler. He bleeds and he gets hurt and does the craziest spots and sells the hell out of them, like no other. And that is actually fun for him. How many times after some ridiculous hardcore match have I literally had to pick thumbtacks out of his ass?

But he is great at what he does. He is dynamite on the mic. An unscripted phenom. People get mesmerized by his promos. He uses a lot of real life stuff. You never know what he is going to ad lib but it doesn't matter because it is all dynamite. I am so proud watching him what he was born to do. He laces up his boots, puts on those knee pads, the hair all over the place, tight trunks cling to his hips and ass and then he walks out to the ring in that jacket. Wow. No words.

But he isn't just some loose cannon. Some crazy guy that reminds people of Heath Ledger's Joker. He is a wrestler. He is technical. He has been training for this moment, perfecting his craft, learning whatever he could whenever he could wherever he could since he was a kid. Wrestling was his escape. Escape from an alcoholic mother, an absentee father, a life of crime where dreams, especially pipe dreams simply don't exist. Nobody gave him a shot. Nobody thought he would amount to shit. He was supposed to be just another statistic, in prison or six feet below in a casket. But he beat unspeakable odds.

That is the kind of story that tugs at heart strings, sells DVDs and wrestling tickets. And he is talented. And he is hot. And his girlfriend is the daughter of a very influential man in wrestling. It's all the ingredients for a Cinderella story but as long as my dad still has breath in his lungs, Dean Ambrose will never see the light of the WWE. My dad hates him with a passion. Oh he will begrudgingly admit that he has talent. Right before he tells you that he is a thug, a criminal…trash. Arn Anderson will never wrap his arm around Dean Ambrose, never call him "son". And um, I am beginning to think I will never feel his arms around me again either.

So there it is. Two worlds just as different as night and day. I need Colby. I need goodness in my life. I need safety and romance and unconditional love and loyalty. I need to have a hero. I need to have some normalcy. And I also need Jon. I need a little bad ass in my life. I need chaos, and drama and well…unconditional love. That is what I get from both of them. To find my real reality would mean I would have to give up one of them. And I can't do that. Not yet. Maybe not ever.

I need Colby…Seth…happy Daveny. And that Daveny needs Jon…Dean…crazy Daveny. Together the story completes itself. It's strange but um it's mine. My life. My lives. It's all love. And I wouldn't trade it for the world. I could go on and on but there will be more time for that later. For now, the alarm clock is about to buzz. And that means it is time to wake up.


	5. Hopes And Fears

Daveny sat comfortably at ringside, her toned and trimmed body adorned in a sexy and fitted black dress. The Monday Night RAW had been uneventful and Seth Rollins had been scheduled to do a run in to help his ally Evan Bourne. The two men had amazing in-ring chemistry together and it was their real life friendship that had brought Colby to the WWE in the first place. A feud had been brewing with Bourne and Antonio Cesaro. Cesaro had recently aligned himself with fellow heel Damian Sandow and the week before, Damian had interfered in a match where Bourne had the upper hand. When the same scenario repeated and Evan Bourne was being kicked senseless in the middle of the ring, it had been his good buddy, Seth Rollins, who had run down the ramp to even the score. A quick succession of crowd pleasing highflying moves, and Cesaro and Sandow had been forced to retreat.

Daveny sucked in a breath as Seth and Evan took the mic. The point of the promo was to tease an upcoming tag team match. Rollins and Bourne, the baby faces, were going to call the bad guys out. It was a test to say the least. Rollins and Bourne were over with the fans individually and as a potential team. Their high flying was second to none and what had made them stand out stars on a grand stage mostly inhabited by giants. But there was more to being a Superstar than just looking the part or wrestling the part. You had to have the whole package that made up the It factor. And the final piece of that puzzle was mic skills.

You had to talk. You had to engage the audience. Whatever you said had to be believable. If you were a heel, your job was to be a jerk, to piss off the crowd and get booed and jeered. If you were one of the good guys, you were supposed to get the cheers. Make them love you with each breath. And every fan and performer knew that the worst possible thing was to not get a reaction at all.

Seth Rollins was an almost total package. His one setback was talking. Sometimes it sounded like bad acting or like he was blatantly reading from a cue card. Other times it wasn't so bad but everyone knew that it was the one element that could keep him from true headliner status. Recognizing the weakness, Colby had worked diligently at improving. He could cut a promo at the breakfast table about whole grain waffles…and he often did. Practicing, learning, perfecting…and Daveny was by his side, supporting and coaching. After all, she made a living working for the WWE talking.

It was mid card action right before a commercial break and the scripted promo was not to last long. Knowing he was under scrutiny, it was the one thing that made Colby nervous. He repeated his lines and it sounded good…it was as good as she had ever seen him do it until the very last few words. He stumbled over a syllable and quickly recovered. It was not too noticeable. The fans didn't seem to care and the show went on for another hour and a half.

It was customary to get on the road after the show and get something to eat. At that late of an hour, it was usually fast food or a chain like Friday's or Hooters. For the most part, the roster got along but just like at every job, there were the cliques of friends who traveled and ate together. They would have one more show ahead of them and then on to next city before two days back home in Charlotte. The food run was uneventful and the drive to the next city a little over four hours. The couple arrived an hour or so before dawn and immediately checked into their room. The travel schedule could be considered grueling, brutal even but Daveny helped to make the most out of it by romanticizing the situation. She and her man on the open road, staying in a different hotel every night…it was oddly sexy. She had changed into her bed clothes and was brushing her long, dark hair in the mirror. Colby had taken a shower alone and he had been in there forever.

"Babe," she knocked a couple times on the door. "Everything okay?"

"Yeah," he finally answered after a few seconds.

Daveny frowned and opened the door. The water was still running but he was out, still wet, a white towel wrapped around his chiseled waist as he had taken a seat on the edge of the tub.

"Colby. What's the matter?" she asked softly.

He shrugged and looked down.

"Nothing. I…"

"Hey," she tilted his chin up to meet hers as she took a seat on the closed lid toilet across from him. "Doesn't look like nothing. What's wrong? Talk to me."

"I don't know, I was just thinking about earlier."

"Colby…"

"I messed up, Day."

She rubbed his knee. She hated it when he beat himself up over every little thing. But that was just a testament to how bad he wanted it.

"Honey, it wasn't bad. You stumbled over a word. It's live. It happens. The promo was great."

"I just didn't want it to go wrong, you know? Yeah for Punk or Cena or Orton, it would be no big deal. The guys heading talent and especially Vince…they know those guys can deliver."

"So can you.

"I just need it to be smoother. I get nervous and it shows."

"Love, you are way too hard on yourself."

"I'm in the big leagues now. Baby, I have to hold my own."

"I know."

He shook his head, a look of wavering confidence flashing across his handsome face.

"I know they're watching me in the back. And I know, um, the world is watching. I'm not stupid. I hear what people say."

"And what is that?"

Colby shrugged.

"Look, I love Matt to death. We have been good friends for a long time. He's a great guy and he has done a lot for me career wise. And I love your dad. Yeah, I respect the fact that he is a legend and I am grateful for him taking me under his wing and stuff but when it comes down to it, I have a personal relationship that is separate from our professional one."

"Of course, babe."

"And I love you," he looked soulfully right into her eyes.

Daveny just grinned.

"You better."

"You know I do. I love you for you. I have loved you ever since the first time I laid eyes on you. And it has nothing to do with your dad."

"I know that. What are you talking about? Where in the world is all this coming from?"

"This is my life, my career. I came from nothing and overcame everything just to get where I am today. And I am proud of that, so proud of it. I know I have a long ways to go, I know the promo thing still needs a lot of work. And I just don't want people, fans, to think that I have a job because of your dad or that I am with you because of your dad."

"Oh Colby, come on. Nobody thinks that."

"Baby, take my phone and you can pull up the Internet and look at about 15 dirt sheets that would say otherwise."

She rolled her eyes.

"What do they know? You're paying attention to dirt sheets now?"

"No. I mean, it's not supposed to matter, what they say, what they think…but when it comes down to it…it really does."

"Look at me, Colby Lopez," she cupped his face in her hands. "You're the hardest worker I know. Nobody wants it more than you. That's why you're on RAW every Monday night and it has nothing to do with who my father is. And what we have…this is real. And it is beautiful and powerful and it goes so far beyond wrestling. None of that other crap even matters."

"Baby…"

"So you need to keep working on your mic skills? So what? No one is perfect. Everybody has something that they have to improve upon. Take the greats…Flair, Austin, The Rock, Shawn Michaels…they all had to grow and get better and guess what? It happened. It happened for them, just like it will happen for you, too. God, you are so hard on yourself…"

He sighed deeply and was quiet for a minute.

"Can I tell you something?" he finally looked back up at her.

"Anything. Always."

"I…I'm afraid."

"Afraid?"

"Yeah," he chuckled sarcastically in spite of the emotional situation. "I must sound like a real pussy for saying that."

"No, no…"

"This is it for me. WWE was the end goal. You make it here to entertain the fans, to impress the McMahons, to make your mark…not to hear, 'good luck on your future endeavors, kid'. And honestly that is my worst nightmare. It's failure. And for what? To go to what? I don't have a college education. Hell, there was nothing else I ever wanted to be. So that is why this is so important to me. I just want to be the best, baby. I want to be someone the fans look up to, someone my peers respect, someone you can be proud to call your husband. Because that's what I want, too. I want a family and I want to keep building this life with you but I want to be able to take care of us…always."

Daveny swallowed hard. This meant everything to him. Though he was great at what he did and worked for it every single second of every single day, the pressure to succeed, to keep the momentum going had to be unbearable. He had been involved in the business for years but he was still considered rather green by WWE standards. There had been a lot of buzz about him, now he had to live up to it. How many times had a guy with a "lot of buzz" been hired, then faded into relative obscurity because Creative and the writers jut didn't know what to do with his character. She was touched by his honesty, his sincerity, the fact that he loved and trusted her enough to share such private thoughts like that. And it touched her, especially, when he brought up the subject of marriage, even when it was indirect. She could of nothing else that would make her happier than to one day be Mrs. Colby Lopez.

"Want to know what I think?"

"I always want to know what you think?"

She gave him a real smile.

"I think you're a great wrestler…and a very good man. And I think you're going to be fine. Just go out there and keep doing what you're doing. Trust the training. Don't over think things and even though I know this is your livelihood, you have to remember that wrestling is supposed to be fun."

Colby looked at his girlfriend. The sound of her voice. The way that she looked at him, the way that she touched him. The way that she believed in him.

"You're the best thing that's ever happened to me," he said quietly.

She gave him a cock headed grin.

"I thought wrestling was the best thing that ever happened to you."

He shrugged.

"That's what brought us together. I kind of think of it like killing two birds with one stone."

"It's gonna be okay," she stood, grabbing his hands and pulling him to his feet as she turned off the water. "We, everything, is going to be just fine, baby."

He gave her a kiss.

"Thank you."

"Let's get ready for bed. I just want to lie in your arms."

Daveny turned to walk away, leading him by the hand but she stopped him.

"No, I mean it. _Thank you_."

Loving someone meant being there for them, giving you their all, being that strong force when the other person wasn't quite so sure of themselves. Love. An emotion of strong affection and personal attachment. Colby and Daveny were truly the best representation of that.


	6. As Good As It Gets

Daveny had gotten off work just in time to see catch the tail end of Dean Ambrose's main event match with fellow NXT Superstar, Corey Graves. It was a television taping at the FCW arena in Tampa. The building was full, the seats filled mostly with the same loyal fans who turned up week in and week out all over the state of Florida. Every now and then a few tourists who were rabid sports entertainment fans would flock to one of the events en route to a race at Daytona or a Disney World vacation.

She was recognized by the security at the front, but security was made up of the lower rated guys on the roster. That's how the promotion worked. It was the big leagues but you still worked like the little guys. You showed up on time. You signed autographs and did all the marketing obligations that were expected of you. You put the ring up and you took it down. You played the part of security guard and the janitor as well.

Daveny leaned against the wall and just watched him go. He was a natural and had taken the territory by storm ever since his arrival. She had missed one of his legendary promos and that was a little disappointing. She liked to see him talk shit on the mic. It was just as much fun for her to watch as it was fun for him to do it. His character was known as this whacked out, insane crazy person and he played it well. It was an extension of Jonathan Good and that was something Daveny could relate to. She remembered once when they'd had a fight, she had decided to leave him. Over the course of the proceeding 12 hours, he had managed to call her 720 times. One call every minute even though she refused to pick up. Only a psycho would do something like that and it was just a testament to his "give no fuck" attitude. When he wanted something, he made it happen…as simple as that.

But he was good, no great at what he did. And it went way beyond the biased opinion of a love struck girlfriend. Daveny Lunde knew a little bit about wrestling. She had grown up around it. It was as much apart of her as she was of it. Dean Ambrose knew how to work a crowd. And the fans recognized and appreciated it. In NXT they cheered for him even when he was supposed to be playing the role of the bad guy. It just showed they knew real talent when they saw it. And more importantly, they respected it.

He was constantly being compared to the likes of Rowdy Roddy Piper, CM Punk and Mick Foley's Cactus Jack…not bad company at all. But he was unique, especially in this era. There were others that had great speaking ability and knew their way around a match but he stood out. He had that It factor, a combination of skills and swag that could very easily catapult him to the next level, the top level.

Watching him stirred up emotion. She had vowed she would never follow the cliché and end up with a wrestler and when she had met Jon, she had no idea who he was or what he did. When she soon found out, she was already hooked. It didn't matter. She loved him. She was in love with him. All that mattered was making a life with him. She wanted Jon to be happy and desperately tried to give him everything she needed so that in turn, he would give her everything that she needed.

He was a storyteller. He had beat the odds both in and outside of the ring. He had a real psychology for the business. And that old school technique combined with sheer street brawling brought a refreshing breath of air to professional wrestling that had not been seen in quite some time. He deserved a shot. All they had to do was give him a legitimate chance and he would prove himself. Too bad he would never get that opportunity. And he would never get it because of her.

Daveny waited around after the show as Jon showered, changed, and helped break down the ring. He grinned when he saw her sitting there, waiting for him. She didn't make it to all his matches but it was kind of cool when she did. She was a cool girl. She had a good heart. And he loved her. It was hard for him to say, even harder for him to feel. He'd had a hard life and that was no secret. Taking the pain of his mother's trick turning, he had turned it to gold with a series of memorable promos. But in that pain, he had lost trust. A mother was supposed to nurture her son. And though they had since made amends, the nurturing love had given way to a string of no good boyfriends, tough neighborhoods, drugs, and booze. How was he supposed to love and trust and honor a woman when he had never seen that, never been taught such love?

With Daveny, he came close. He still made mistakes. She accepted his flaws. She didn't like them and it had been the source of some hellacious fights but she understood him as a man and as a person and he needed that. They'd always be together as a result of that. Nothing could and would ever come between them.

"Hey babe," she gave him a kiss and a long hug.

He rubbed his hand over her ass and kissed her neck, then her hair, before burying his face in her hair.

"What are you doing here?" he asked as he slung his gym bag over his shoulder and they walked outside.

He threw his stuff in the back and they climbed in as he started the truck.

"I got off early. One of the guys dropped me off."

"Who?" he asked, jealousy in his voice.

"Nobody you know and don't start your shit. I have to rely on rides until we get the car fixed."

He shrugged. She did have a point and everyone knew that transmission work did not come cheap.

"Yeah, I'm working on it," he grumbled. "I'm gonna take it in next week."

Daveny nodded, not worried about the car in the moment.

"Your match was awesome," she smiled at him. "I got to see the end of it."

"Thanks."

"No, Jon," she rubbed his knee. "I mean, it was really good. Just…I don't know, I love watching you in your element. It gives me chills. You were born to do it."

He chuckled under his breath.

"What do you want?"

"What do you mean what do I want?"

"You're really on my dick so that must mean you want something."

She rolled her eyes.

"Can't I just say something nice? And can't you just take a compliment?"

Jon continued to tease her.

"I don't have any money, if that's what you're getting at. And the fancy vacation to the Bahamas is just gonna have to wait. And I'm pretty tired tonight, so if you're looking forward to hours and hours of romance and play time and all that foreplay nonsense, I'm just warning you, I got like…three, no, maybe five minutes in me."

"Jon…"

"But it'll be a good five minutes," he laughed. "Best of your life guaranteed."

He loved messing with her. She was so cute when she was all riled up. She had a temper almost as quick as his. And damned near just as explosive. That usually led to the hottest, craziest make-up sex in the history of. And he was always up for a little of that.

Smiling to himself, he expected her to say something smart back to him. Yell at him even. But she didn't. When he glanced over, he was surprised to see her all curled up, head turned towards the passenger window, body shaking as she sobbed softly to herself.

"I hate you," she whispered with a sniffle.

He shook his head.

"What are you crying for?"

"Leave me alone."

"Daveny, what's the matter, huh? Come on. I asked you a question. The fuck's the matter with you?"

She wiped at her eyes.

"You wouldn't understand."

He sighed and mumbled a swear word under his breath. So it was going to be one of those nights, huh? Fucking women. Couldn't live with them…and yeah, sometimes you just couldn't live with them. He pulled the truck over into the first parking lot they came across.

"I said I asked you a question," he turned to her.

He tried to touch her but she smacked his hand away. He tried again and got the same reaction.

"Stop it!"

"Daveny…"

"Just drive. I want to go home, Jon."

"Nope. Sounds to me like you wanna be a spoiled brat. So if you're gonna sit here and act dumb, then I'll sit here and I guess we'll act dumb together in this parking lot all night. Cause we ain't moving until you start talking."

It was no use. He was crazy. And dead serious. This was the same guy who made 720 phone calls in a row.

"It's the wrestling thing," she took a deep breath.

"You're crying because I wrestled tonight?"

She nodded.

"You, you're good, Jon. I mean that. You're the best and I'm not just saying that cause you're my boyfriend. I say it because it's true. And you deserve to be in the WWE. You deserve your shot but the truth is, you won't get it. You are never gonna get it and that is because of me. My dad hates you. He will do everything in his power to see that you never make it past this."

Jon just stared at her.

"So."

"Don't be stupid," she punched at the dashboard.

He leaned back and threw his hands in the air.

"What do you want me to do?"

"What do I want you to do?"

"You may be right, I don't know. If you are, that sucks but it is what it is. I can't change it. I can't sway your Old Man and I'm not about to go kiss his ass either. You know better than that."

"But it's not fair," she wailed.

"Welcome to reality."

"I'm afraid."

"Afraid of what?"

She looked into his eyes.

"That one day you won't love me anymore," she admitted.

"Jesus Christ, Daveny."

"I mean it. This is your dream, your passion. And I know you imagine what it would be like, how great it would be in the WWE. I know you want to know what it feels like headlining a Wrestlemania with CM Punk. It would be epic, babe. And you would deserve it. And you'll never have it because you stay with me."

"Look…"

"You say it's okay. You say that now but one day, years from now, you're gonna look back and you're gonna be filled with regret and you're gonna resent the hell out of me for it."

She broke down in a fit of sobs and Jon was quiet for a few minutes.

"All my life was a fight Daveny. To survive in the hood. To graduate high school. To get a chance to wrestle even in front of one person. I did it. I did it, I had a blast, got into a little bit of trouble, gave it up for a while…and now I'm back. You know what? Tonight was fun. And all those other times, it was fun. That's how wrestling is supposed to be. And if I gotta politic and ass kiss and dump my fucking girlfriend to get to the top…well, that shit ain't fun. I don't know what's gonna happen. I'm not one of those, what do you call it, fortune tellers. I can't see into the future but I know one thing. If this is it, if this is as good as it gets, then so be it. You know? It ain't a bad life. Alls I want to do is have fun. Wrestle for a living, party, cash checks, drink a little beer and have sex. That's what I got going on right now and that ain't just fine with me, it's motherfucking great with me."

He put his arm around her.

"You mean that?"

"Yeah."

"Do you love me?"

"Wouldn't be here with you if I didn't."

He gave her a look, one with a real solid future in it. She knew he was telling the truth. She loved him and he loved her. Loving someone meant being there for them, giving you their all, being that strong force when the other person wasn't quite so sure of themselves. Love. An emotion of strong affection and personal attachment. Jon and Daveny were truly the best representation of that.


	7. Class Act

"So you guys just want to follow us on over to Hooters?" Matt "Evan Bourne" Korklan asked his good friend, Colby.

"Yeah, man, whatever. I think I might remember how to get there…"

Daveny smiled, Coach luggage in hand. Men and directions. They never wanted to admit that they did not know how to get somewhere. What was up with that? Colby had probably only traveled to that city once before.

"Sure he would," she spoke up with a wink. "I don't know if Colby knows where it is and the GPS was kind of sketchy earlier."

"Baby, you have no faith," he pretended to pout.

"Nah, I'm just really hungry and I don't feel like driving around in circles."

It was after a house show and the talent was beginning to disperse from inside the arena. Everyone was hungry and ready to grub before making the decision of crashing at the hotel or making the five hour trek to the next city on the schedule. It had been a great show. Colby and Matt's respective Seth Rollins and Evan Bourne had teamed together and defeated Cody Rhodes and Dolph Ziggler. The crowd had loved all the high flying action and sitting at ringside, Daveny had beamed as her man had more than redeemed himself on the mic, cutting a perfect on the spot promo. All in all, it had been a good night and they were ready to kick back with some hot wings, fries and a beer.

Colby had walked on ahead and began loading some of their belongings into the trunk of the rental car. A few fans had been waiting for an hour or so in hopes to get an autograph or picture or possibly both with one of their favorite WWE Superstars. Colby was always more than happy to oblige. Sure it got exhausting, nerve racking sometimes but it came with the territory. And he had never forgotten his roots, that he had started out as a fan himself. Martin/Arn had always been careful to instill into all the talent's minds and drill into their hearts the importance of respecting the fans, the almighty WWE Universe who put nice sums of money in the pockets of the talent.

"Evan! Daveny! Can we get a picture?"

Matt and Daveny soon found themselves surrounded by a small but peacefully gathered fan mob. They fulfilled their duties and signed every program, every magazine, and posed for every photograph. The fans were polite and as Daveny and Matt went their separate ways to go to their cars, she found herself watching two of the young women she had just signed for. Both were pretty, slim, wearing shorts and tanks that showed off perfectly tanned and sculpted arms and legs. They were standing by the car, one actually leaning on the car smiling and staring up appreciatively at her boyfriend. He was being nice, making small talk, like he often did but there was something about their body language. The way they giggled, twirled their hair…flirtatiously bit their bottom lips as they stuck out their chests and behinds and batted their eyelashes at him.

The flirting was obvious and Colby took it all in stride. He had gotten used to it over the years and traveling with the WWE only took the fandom to a higher level. It was of course flattering, being on the constant receiving end of such admiration. It was quite the ego boost at times. And in his early days, before he had entered a committed relationship, there were times he had even indulged. He was a good guy but a guy nevertheless. He was young and good looking and at that time, free. Who wouldn't want their pick of gorgeous women? It was all casual. Though nothing serious or lasting was ever implied, Colby always made it a point to at least try to make small talk with the girls, attempt to get to know them before the actual deed took place. And he always let them spend the night, never kicked them out of bed, even held them in his arms. It was half out of respect, half out of guilt but he did the best he could to not hurt anyone's feelings.

"Gah, this is such an amazing night! I can't believe we are actually standing here talking to Seth Rollins," one giggled.

"I know," the other licked her bottom lip. "You're so cute. Like really cute. Way hotter than on TV, if that's even possible."

"Well, thank you, ladies. The support means a lot. Did you enjoy the show tonight?"

Both nodded enthusiastically.

"You were awesome."

"Thanks. I'm glad you both had a good time" he chuckled as he closed the trunk. "Man, y'all are too much but I really appreciate it. Seriously. _You're _awesome."

"Thank you."

"Listen, we have to get going and all but it was really nice meeting you. Keep watching on TV and coming to the shows. Maybe I'll catch you next time around."

He turned to walk away but the bolder girl grabbed his wrist. She smiled seductively, slipping a folded piece of paper into his hand.

"Or you could catch me…us later. You know, like later tonight. If you want," she motioned to her friend.

Colby didn't have to look. He knew it was a phone number. And he also knew what they were trying to imply.

"Um, good night, ladies" he cleared his throat. "Be safe driving home now."

Her friend looked defeated but the leader was not going to give up so easily.

"Give us a call later. We could come hang out in your hotel room. Or anywhere you want. It would be a lot of fun. The best night of your life. The best _threesome _of your life."

He handed the paper back.

"Look, I'm very flattered but I can't take you up on that one. Sorry."

"Why not?" the other one pouted. "You know you want to."

"Thank you for being a fan, thank you for hanging around to talk after the show but I gotta draw the line somewhere. I have a girlfriend. A very beautiful girlfriend who means the world to me. The same woman who was nice enough to sign an autograph and take a picture with you just five minutes ago. I would never do anything to hurt her…or disrespect her. So I ask that you don't either."

With a nod, he walked away over to where Daveny had been checking out the disturbing scene. The fans huffed and scowled before storming off. Colby stroked the side of Daveny's cheek and placed a full, sweet kiss on her lips before guiding her to the passenger door that he opened for her.

"I'll um…just follow me," Matt hollered from a few spaces down.

He had been watching as well and he felt bad for Colby. It was a tough position to be in and Colby had done the right thing. He was a good guy, he always did the right thing. But Matt understood Daveny's frustration as well. After all, he had a girlfriend back home that he loved as well and they had experienced some of the same awkward encounters. He gave his buddy a sympathetic expression before Colby disappeared inside the car and cranked up the rental and waited to follow Matt out of the lot.

"You okay?" he finally asked after a few silent minutes.

He knew deep in his gut that she wasn't. He tapped his fingers against the steering wheel. There was an uncomfortable and unfamiliar tension that was unspoken nevertheless still lingering between them.

"Yeah," she stared out the window.

"Day…"

She closed her eyes.

"I can't believe it," she replied quietly. "Well, actually I can. It happens all the time yet it never ceases to amaze me how these women can be so bold and brazen. It's kind of sad, actually. They have no respect for me, our relationship…not even themselves."

"Baby…"

"They saw me standing there. And I was so nice to them."

"I know they did and and I know you were and I'm sorry. It…what do you want me to say? I handled it the best way I could. I didn't want to be rude but at the same time I was firm. I let them know I wasn't interested and I let them know why. It is part of the job, I guess. What can you do?"

He had a point but she was still mad.

"It just pisses me off," she muttered.

The ride to get something to eat was a short one. Colby pulled in right after Matt in the next space. When he leaned over to release his seat belt, he saw the tears sliding down her pretty face.

"Oh Daveny, come on…"

"I'm sorry," her voice broke in a whimper.

He turned and leaned over, wiping the wet drops away with his thumb.

"Don't be sorry. It just makes me feel bad. I hate to see you so upset, you know that. I don't want you to cry."

"I can't help it."

"It's not worth it."

"I know," she sighed. "It shouldn't matter but it does. And then I get so mad because I let them get to me. The whole thing is just stupid."

"I, we, can't control how other people feel or act. We can only control what we do, how we think, feel, and act. Do I think what they did was tacky? Yeah. And I handled it the best I could. They got the point and it's over now. They're gone. Look, I love you. Daveny, I am in love with you and I swear nothing else matters. I know it bothers you but I don't want you to dwell on it. And despite the fact that you're so upset, I absolutely love that you handled it like a true class act. Just one more thing that makes you so damned amazing."

She nodded and took a deep breath, trying to collect herself before they joined their friends.

"Thank you. Baby, thank you for that."

He smiled.

"You ready to go inside? Grub? I'm freakin' starving. I could eat everything on the menu."

"Yeah but…"

"What's up?"

Daveny looked right at him.

"Those girls were very pretty."

"So?" he didn't miss a beat.

"I know that you love me. And I know that you're a wonderful man. You're my man. You have always been so devoted, so true, and you have never given me a reason to doubt you, which is why I can't believe the insecurity in me is even saying this but…"

"What?"

"Promise me you'll never hurt me."

"Never. I love you so much."

"Promise me you will never cheat on me."

"There is no other woman on God's green earth that could ever fill your place in my heart or my bed."

She gave him a weak tear filled smile.

"Promise you will never leave me."

He laughed out loud.

"Baby, you ain't never getting rid of me. On that I swear. You're gonna see this mug for the rest of your life, that I can promise you."

He gave her this smile, a real smile so filled with love and hope and promise…and truth. Colby had said the words and Daveny knew that he had meant them. He would never do her wrong in any way. And he would never leave her. In his kiss, in his embrace in that moment inside the car, she was overcome with such emotion and affection that she felt like she might burst. Those were the moments she wanted to last forever. But the queasiness in her belly let her know that they might not have forever. And if that was the case, it would be her fault, not Colby's. The thought made her want to just die. Because in that moment, in that life, nothing or no one else existed. She did not want to be with anyone else. There was a whole other world out there but Colby was her reality.


	8. Trash Act

The bar was busy for a Thursday night. The space was filled with drunken chatter and laughter from regulars and new faces, alike. It was one of Daveny's least favorite places to be but it helped pay the bills and it beat shaking her bare ass for a bunch of horny, drooling men. It was her night to close, which meant that after the doors locked and everyone else was kicked out, she would have to balance the register, get everything ready for the next day's bank deposit, then clean up before she could go home. One other person would be with her but unexpectedly, Jon had showed up. He did ever so often. He was an unpredictable man. He hardly planned his actions, was more of a fly by night kind of guy. When she asked him to come wait for her, he would usually complain about it, make up excuses or simply not show up after he promised. But when the mood fancied him, he would come in, usually around 11 and wait it out or rather drink it out.

An NFL football game played on one of the flat screen TVs and everything from the score to the officiating to the players themselves had been a topic of heated discussion. Jon had been throwing back the Yuenglings and had even enjoyed a shot or two. He had been boozing for years and as a result, had built up quite an impressive tolerance. His liver was probably on the verge of collapse but he didn't care about things like that. Worries of the future just put a damper on the fun of the now.

When he was drinking heavily, he often got belligerent. Drunkenness combined with his already quick and explosive temper made for a dangerous combination. Though making drinks had kept her without a second to think straight, out of the corner of her eye, Daveny had kept a careful eye on Jon. He had been arguing with some random guy about the outcome of the game and on more than one occasion over the years, she had seen what was seemingly small incidents blow up into World War III tragedies. And when it came to fighting, Jon was a "fight to the death" kind of guy. He lost control and that was always scary.

"Fuck yeah!" he raised his arms and shouted as the team he was rooting for made another touchdown.

He took a swig of beer before slamming the empty bottle down on the bar top. Some of the liquid slid down his chin from the corner of his mouth but he didn't care. He burped loudly and wiped his mouth with his sleeve.

"You okay?" Daveny asked, taking away the empty bottle and wiping away the mug rings with a dish cloth.

"Yeah, I'm good," he didn't even bother to look at her. "Hit me with another one."

Daveny rolled her eyes. Typical. And cutting him off would fuel a rage that would only lead to a tumultuous public showdown. So she got another Yuengling and slid it down the bar to him.

"Fuck those fucking motherfuckers," the guy who had been going back and forth with Jon yelled.

Jon gave him a loopy grin.

"The fuck's your problem? You act like you're surprised or something."

"Your team sucks."

Jon just laughed out loud.

"Oh my team sucks? Who is down by 14, asshole?"

"Whatever."

"Your boys. And," Jon took another big swallow. "Who is coming off of two straight wins? My boys."

"You think you're tough shit? You think you know everything? Those wins don't even matter. Those fucking teams they beat aren't even ranked. Not a playoff chance in hell."

"Yeah, cause my team kicked their ass."

"You got a lot of mouth there. Care to out some money on it?"

Jon's eyes danced.

"Depends on what you're talking."

Daveny shook her head. They weren't broke or struggling but they were far from comfortable. They had bills to pay. They had a car that was in the shop every other week. They had responsibilities. Jon's vices included more so drugs and alcohol and women. Gambling was never a huge problem but he talked a big game and when the situation called for it, had been known to place a bet here and there.

"Jon, I gotta talk to you."

"Not now," he dismissed Daveny.

"No! Now!" she said with more force.

He grumbled and walked down to an empty part of the bar even as the guy made some off color comment about his nuts being in a jar.

"The fuck you do that for?" he ran his fingers through his hair.

He was mad. But his tone and demeanor was calm, cunning even. It was sort of like he was in wrestling character, sizing up an opponent before cutting one of his infamous promos.

"You know why," she looked dead at him.

He never broke the gaze.

"Nope. I don't know. I don't know why, Daveny. That's why I asked the question."

"We have better things to spend our money on."

"Our?"

"Yes, asshole, our. And don't even give me that shit about what you're making at FCW because we live together and what _we _make is what takes care of us."

He nodded, eerily studying her for a moment.

"So I can't take care of you now?"

"Don't start."

"I didn't started it but I can finish it. Hell, you brought it up. In fact, you always bring it up. Never directly. Nope, you just work it into a conversation trying to start an argument. And it always comes down to the same shit."

"Really?" she folded her arms. "And what is that?"

"Money," he leaned in, over pronouncing the word. "I guess the FCW ain't good enough for you."

"I didn't say that."

"But you damned sure meant it. Why be shy now? You don't have the car you want, the house you want looking over, over the goddamned ocean," he drunkenly stumbled over his words.

"It's the bay, you idiot."

"Whatever. Why don't you go find you, find you one of them rich fucks that works with your daddy? One of them top tier clowns that can buy you all the fancy shit you want. I hear Cena is back on the market."

"Shut up, Jon. You're drunk and you're being stupid. Go sleep it off in the truck."

"Fuck you. You don't tell me what to do."

"Fuck you," she gave it right back to him.

He stumbled off and they pretty much ignored him as the other bartender continued to serve him. He was as loud and cantankerous as ever and Daveny was beyond annoyed. Times like that, she wanted to haul off and slap his face. It took all she could to ignore him but when some trashy red head wearing a sweater about three sizes too small got really close, Daveny's attention was locked full force.

He was a good looking guy in a sexy and rough, rugged kind of way. He oozed danger. You knew he was trouble and women did love a bad boy. They threw themselves at him constantly. Daveny knew he had cheated in the past but they had agreed begrudgingly to leave that in the past though her trust for him was not nearly as strong as her love for him. If women wanted to look, fine. But blatantly flirting and touching and shoving their tits in his face was a definite no go.

"So you're a wrestler?" she purred.

"I'm a wrestler," Jon took another drink.

"Like Hulk Hogan?"

He chuckled.

"Something like that…only way better and way more bad ass."

"Mmmm, sexy."

"Sexy, huh? I think you're pretty sexy. What's your name, sweetheart?"

"Michelle," she grinned, brushing up against him.

"Well, it's nice to meet you, Michelle. Um, you better be careful…you know, you're starting to get awful personal down there."

She laughed, tossing her head back.

"I see something I like so I decided to feel it."

"You like it, baby?"

"Oh yeah. It felt…nice."

He laughed and gulped more alcohol.

"Trust me…it gets nicer. And bigger."

Daveny had heard enough. She threw the rag down and stormed over to where they were.

"What the fuck is this fucking shit?" she demanded.

"Who are you?" Michelle looked annoyed. "Don't you work here?"

"Don't worry where I work. I asked you a question."

Michelle put her hands on her hips.

"You want to step off there, honey? Seriously, do you mind?"

"Well, _honey_, this is my boyfriend so actually I do mind. Very much so."

Michelle looked back and forth between the two before laughing.

"Really? Your boyfriend, huh? Well, he sure wasn't acting like it."

"Yeah? Well, the beer goggles make him crave skank," she said as she grabbed Jon's hand. "Come on."

He shrugged but Michelle stepped between them. Daveny was furious. She gave the woman a push. Michelle pushed back a little harder. In a matter of seconds, a full on brawl had broken out that ended with Michelle screaming and lying on the floor bloodied and bruised while an incensed and cursing Daveny was on top punching her. Jon was too drunk and too tickled for that matter to stop them but the manager and a few male patrons broke them up, pulling Daveny off.

"What the hell is your problem?" the manager raged.

"That stupid bitch got in my face first and she had her hands all over Jon…"

"I don't care."

"But she…"

"Daveny, did you hear me? I do not care. You can't put your hands on a customer like that! Are you crazy?"

"Whatever, she got what she deserved."

"Yeah? And so will you. You're fired."

"What?"

"You heard me."

"Why? You, you can't fire me!"

"You're lucky if no one presses charges. Now get your stuff and get out of my bar! Get off this property!"

In a huff, Daveny stalked off and grabbed her purse and jacket as Jon stumbled behind after his tab was hurriedly closed. Daveny walked into the cool Tampa night air and as the reality of the situation set in, tears spilled down her face.

"The fuck are you crying for?" he drawled.

Daveny shot him a death stare.

"Really?"

He staggered towards her but she pushed him hard.

"Crazy ass…"

"Nice going! Shit, you just got me fired!"

"You got you fired. Shit for once I'm in a bar and brawl or whatever breaks out and it ain't me."

"Shut up!"

"What are you mad for? Look, it might not be that good WWE money but we ain't gonna be homeless. Relax and chill the fuck out. You hate this place anyway."

It sucked losing her job and she would more than likely be able to find another one. But that was beside the point.

"Leave me alone."

"Daveny…"

"You just don't get it, do you?"

"You and your PMSing moaning and complaining. I swear you broads are all alike."

"How could you do that to me?" she whispered.

"What'd I do?"

"You disrespected me and you humiliated me and you flirted with that stupid whore and you let her touch you. You just stood there, enjoying it even. How do you think that makes me feel? I mean, why? I, I love you so much and I do everything for you and it's like it is never enough. You know?" she cried. "No matter what. And it makes me feel like shit, like I'm not good enough, like…"

"Like how you make me feel when you're always riding my case about money or whatever else you're nagging about?"

"Oh, so I'm a nag now? This is my fault? I drive you to cheat?"

"Look, I love you. You know that. But I'm not your little bitch. You're not gonna tell me what to do or boss me around or try to make me look stupid in front of people. I do what the hell I want. That Michelle chick? That was just for fun."

"Fun?"

"Yeah, I was just trying to piss you off. I wasn't gonna fuck her or anything."

"Well, that's good to know. I mean, thanks for the heads up because you sure have fucked a lot of bar sluts before her," Daveny mumbled sarcastically. "You are unbelievable."

"Come here," he walked over to her.

This is the part where he would apologize and try to wear her down. But he had really hurt her. And now things were a mess.

"Stop it!"

"Babe…"

"Don't touch me," she swatted him a way.

He walked a few steps towards her and his eyes got big and his face turned green in the moonlight. He fell back a little and puked his guts out right there in front of her. Daveny closed her eyes, tears still falling. She had a choice. She could leave at any time and most women in her position would have split years before. In that moment standing in the parking lot, she was overcome with such emotion that she felt like she might burst. There was something about him. Something that made her love him. Something that made her forgive him. Something that made her stay. This was it. Jon was the man she loved and though she could do without the drinking, the drama, his catting around, and vomit splattering on her shoes, he was the one person she wanted to be with forever. But the queasiness in her own belly let her know that they might not have forever. And if that was the case, it could very well be her fault, not Jon's. The thought made her want to just die. Because in that moment, in that life, nothing or no one else existed. She did not want to be with anyone else. There was a whole other world out there but Jon was her reality.


	9. Life Is A Fairytale

When we're little kids, our teachers and parents read fairytales to us. We grow up believing in happily ever after. When I was a little girl, I used to pretend I was a fairy princess and that my bedroom was in a castle and that one day, a handsome prince would come and sweep me into his arms and carry me away. And one day, that is exactly how it happened. Almost…

_2008_

_It was a warm day in late August, the weather in North Carolina still hanging on to the remnants that were known as long summer days. Fall had yet to fully begin and it was only a few days left before the cool autumn air would replace the muggy days. The WWE had made a stop in Charlotte and backstage at the Time Warner Cable Arena, the atmosphere was abuzz with talent and the usual excited chaos that pre-empted every show. Sometimes, my dad still traveled with the company. His affiliation allowed him to work at home but he wasn't about laptops and paperwork and stuffy meetings. Daddy lived and died in that ring. The sport meant everything to him. I know how much he loved me and my brothers and Mom but nothing could describe the sheer happiness that defined him when he was on the active roster. _

_He'd had a rash of health problems. His head, neck, and back had been injured twice in two years in the ring. He never took time off to heal. I'm sure he must have felt the pain…seen the warning signs but those guys are trained to deal with it. The show must go on. But in 1996, it stopped. He was forced to undergo surgery to correct his musculoskeletal and nerve problems. Then in 1997, he collapsed in our home. The absolute scariest moment of my life. He passed out and he looked…well, he looked dead. They said his symptoms were like those of cardiac arrest or pulmonary failure. He was in the hospital forever and we were so scared for him. My father had always been my hero…he still is. I am a Daddy's girl. Sometimes in life, we reach a crossroads where a decision must be made. That day, my father made his. He did not want my mother to become a widow. He didn't want three little kids to grow up fatherless. So he retired._

_I made my way through the backstage area. I had spent time with the WWE here and there over the years. I had studied communications in college and my father had pulled some strings to talk to Vince McMahon about hiring me to become a ring announcer. I was excited. It was a tremendous opportunity. I felt pangs of guilt because I got a dream job simply through my father's connections, but I was a hard worker and I would do well. I'd fit right in. Wrestling was in my blood…it was a part of my DNA. Somehow I knew I would always be associated with it. To my mother's relief, at least it wasn't grappling inside the squared circle with a bunch of the Divas._

_The crew had already started to set up the ring and my dad and Michael Hayes were standing in the middle of it chatting. He looked so at home there. All that was missing was the wrestling trunks. I was so proud to be his daughter. And as I looked around, I smiled. It was like I had found a new home. I now had a legacy of my own to fulfill._

"_There she is, Michael," my dad stopped mid-sentence._

_His drawl was heavy, unmistakable. And he smiled with the pride only a father could have for the apple of his eye._

"_Well, well," Michael held open the ropes for me. "Good to see you again, darlin'. I swear you get prettier and prettier each time I see you."_

_He gave me a kiss on the cheek._

"_Hello, Michael," I said before turning to my dad and lingering in his big bear hug of an embrace. "Hi Daddy."_

"_Hi Princess," he practically beamed._

_He had called me that nickname since I was born._

"_Am I interrupting?"_

"_Not at all," Michael shook his head. "Just catching up. We miss the Old Man on the road."_

_He gave my father a playful slap on the back._

"_Well, we miss him when he's not at home," I smiled. "Besides, Daddy, you remember what the doctors say. You have to take it easy."_

_When you come that close to losing a parent like that so young, you become a worrywart when it comes to their health._

"_I take it plenty easy," he shoved his hands inside his pants pockets. "Your mama makes sure of that. But uh, come pretty soon, looks like I'll have to join the fellas on the road just to keep up with you."_

_I grinned, slightly embarrassed._

"_Nothing is set in stone yet…"_

"_Don't be so modest," Michael looked right at me. "The announcer job is practically yours. Start out on house shows and such to work your way up to TV. I am sure you will be great."_

"_Well, thank you. I promise to give it my best."_

"_I'm sure you will, honey," Daddy kissed my cheek. "Are your brothers on their way?"_

_I nodded._

"_Yes sir. They will be here before the show starts."_

"_Good. Listen, Vince is backstage and I am sure he is going to want to speak with you. I'll see if I can grab him."_

"_Okay. Thanks Daddy."_

_He and Michael Hayes continued their conversation and headed out of the ring back up the ramp, presumably to eventually find the Chairman himself. The arena was empty but the layout used for wrestling events had already been set up. In fact, there was a big spotlight beaming down in the center of the ring. I realized where I was standing. One day soon, that was going to be my spot. I would stand there in front of a bunch of cameras and thousands of fans, wearing some sexy dress and introduce to the WWE Universe, some of the most talented athletes in the world. Just the thought gave me chills._

_I savored the moment, grinning all over myself. Then I turned to exit the ring. I looked up and at the same time, so did he. He was the most beautiful man I had ever laid eyes on. Our eyes met and it was this electrifying, literal magical moment that is hard to explain. Moments like that only happen in the movies usually. I guess aside from all those fairytales I used to read, in reality, I had never really believed in love at first sight. Was such a thing even possible? Could two human beings really fall madly into true love just by looking at one another? That theory was tested. It may sound silly, but I looked at him and I knew. I just knew. You know? I knew he was the man for me. It was like time stood still. It went beyond lust, beyond love even. We were soul mates. I saw my life, our entire future together. He was the man that was going to be the father of my children._

_I swallowed hard and smiled. He was beautiful. Tall. Tan. He had long dark hair that had been pulled back into a ponytail. He was dressed in gym attire. Though I had never seen him before, I knew right away that he was the talent. It wasn't uncommon for some of the more promising guys in the developmental territories to be brought up to travel on the main roster. He was lean but muscular, seemingly towering over, Matt Korklan aka Evan Bourne. _

"_Daveny, how are you?" Matt grinned and extended his hand as he helped me exit the ring. "It's great to see you again."_

_He smiled widely. Matt was one of the friendlier guys, a real sweetheart._

"_Hi, how's it going?"_

"_I saw your dad backstage. He looks great."_

_I nodded._

"_He's feeling great. Happy to be back, happy to see you guys."_

"_So," Matt took a swig of water from his bottle. "Any truth to those rumors floating around?"_

_I bit my lip and gave him a knowing look._

"_And those rumors might be…" I tried my best to play coy._

"_You'll be joining us."_

_Word sure did travel fast._

"_Um, we'll see. They are going to give it a trial run, you know, see what happens. I'm excited."_

"_You wrestle?" the other guy asked._

_It was the first time I had heard him speak and his voice literally paralyzed me._

"_No," I licked my lips nervously. "I announce, I mean, I am going to be hopefully trying out for that."_

"_If she wanted to, she could," Matt added. "Wrestling is in her blood and um, please forgive my manners or lack thereof, guys. Colby, this is Daveny Lunde, Arn Anderson's daughter. And Daveny, this is Colby Lopez. He's a good friend of mine and a hell of a wrestler. Goes by the name of Tyler Black."_

_Colby. I liked that name. It was different. It was cute. It fit him._

"_Nice to meet you, Daveny," Colby shook my hand and let his thumb roll over my fingers for a few lingering seconds. "That's a beautiful name."_

"_Thank you."_

_We were standing there holding onto each other in our own little world, completely oblivious to everyone and everything around us._

"_Hey, can you guys excuse me for a second?" Matt asked before walking off and leaving us alone to go talk to one of the other guys._

"_Hi," I said, the butterflies churning in my stomach literally about to carry me away._

_He chuckled._

"_Hi."_

"_I, um…I think we got introductions out of the way already," I laughed nervously._

"_So…are you gonna be traveling with the company?"_

"_Yes. Soon. Probably a couple of weeks. I have a meeting with Vince McMahon later today. What about you?"_

"_Not soon enough but uh…hopefully soon."_

"_Good."_

"_Your dad…he is a living legend. I mean nothing but respect. I idolized him growing up."_

_I smiled._

"_He is my hero, too. He is a wonderful man, in and out of the ring."_

"_Well, it is an honor to shake his daughter's hand."_

_We stood there for I don't know how long. Then, speak of the devil, my father emerged from the back._

"_There you are, honey. Got a minute?" he asked._

_I turned. Now I had another reason to be nervous._

"_Sure," I took a deep breath._

"_Now, no reason to be scared. Just be yourself and everything will go fine."_

"_I hope so," I turned to Colby. "It was uh, really great meeting you. If all goes well in the next few minutes, I guess I'll be seeing you around."_

_My dad turned to him and I saw something. My dad is a good judge of character. He had a certain way with people. He also had a nose for talent. He always said it was pointless to go out hunting for the "next big thing". He said sometimes opportunities just fell in your lap and when you saw it…well, you just knew. That day, I finally understood what he was talking about.  
_

"_I don't believe we've met, son."_

_Colby gulped hard._

"_Mr. Anderson, it is an honor…"_

"_What's your name?"_

"_Colby Lopez."_

"_Well, Colby Lopez, you gonna be on the road?"_

"_For the next few weeks and then after that…well, who knows but that is the plan. I just got signed to some developmental stuff."_

_Dad looked him up and down._

"_You got a great look. Got any Indy tapes?"_

"_Yeah. Yes sir."_

"_I'd love to take a look, see what you got."_

_They started up a conversation on the spot and Colby was in awe speaking with a man he had so long respected within their chosen career field. But there was something else about that glint in his dark eyes…_

I'll never forget that day. It was the day my life changed forever. It was the day I became a full fledged member of the WWE. It was the day I met Colby. It was the day I fell in love with Colby. And it was the day I started believing in fairytales again.


	10. Life Is Not A Fairytale

When we're little kids, our teachers and parents read fairytales to us. We grow up believing in happily ever after. When I was a little girl, I used to pretend I was a fairy princess and that my bedroom was in a castle and that one day, a handsome prince would come and sweep me into his arms and carry me away. Too bad fairytales are just that. True love does exist. But it isn't perfect. It's real. It's scary. It's intense. It's not always holding hands and baking cookies. And sometimes you find true love in the most unexpected of places…

_2008_

_I heard some old rock and roll song blaring in the background. Probably Van Halen. I didn't care. It didn't matter. After a while it all sounded the same. I looked around. There was a blonde next to me who went by the name of Maleigha…or at least she did on stage. The girls never shared their real names. I guess every sect has a code…even strippers._

_I looked in the mirror and once again almost didn't recognize the reflection staring back. I saw a pretty girl with tired eyes and the distinct look that let someone know she had lived a hard life. Makeup didn't hide everything even though I wore gallons of it. Goddamn…if only my parents could see me now. I could just see my father shaking his head. My mom would probably cry. I don't know. I hadn't talked to them in months anyway._

_I was still pretty pissed and once again, almost certain that they were the reason to blame for all my woes. This obviously was not how my life was supposed to be. I was a bit of a drifter. A free spirit who marched to the beat of her own drum. I didn't care about college. I didn't care about wrestling. I just liked to party. And that had gotten me into trouble. Mostly stupid shit…nothing worth bragging about, that's for sure. A few fights here and there and a misdemeanor marijuana possession charge. One night after drinking and letting a bunch of sleazy guys at the bar do Tequila shots off my crotch, I'd gotten behind the wheel of my car. I thought I was okay to drive but the first time I swerved, just my luck, the blue lights flashed and the siren wailed and the next thing I knew, I was in cuffs facing a DUI charge._

_That had been the last straw for my folks. They'd had it. They had bribed and preached and yelled and cried enough. Nothing had worked so when I needed them the most, they had decided to abandon me…or what they called exercising tough love. Whatever. I didn't need them anyway. I could take care of myself. I was a bad ass after all…until I found myself without a penny in my pocket or a place to lay my head. That'll snuff the "bad ass" right out of anybody. Quickly._

_I met a guy named Gus. He was older. Looked like a typical "Gus". He owned a strip club and let me work for him. That first time was scary as fuck. Taking my clothes off for a bunch of drunks. Feeling like everybody was judging me one way or another. But I was desperate. I had to do something. So I did it and threw up all night afterwards. But it got easier. And Gus supplying alcohol and coke and weed and whatever else the girls needed made it bearable. Once I got over the shame of what my life had become, the sheer rebellion I had to stick it to my family allowed me to relax and somewhat enjoy my life. I was living in Peoria, Illinois, making enough money to survive. And partying my ass off. _

"_You ready, babe?"_

_I looked over at the short, pretty brunette standing next to me applying red lipstick. Her name was Mia…her real name. We had become pretty close. She was a little younger than me, an Army brat with a strict Irish Catholic upbringing. I guess we both had something to prove. Mia was nice and a lot of fun to hang out with. She was Gus' top girl. A few times after getting fucked up the night before, we'd make out. No big deal. But Gus got a kick out of it. Said we should incorporate it into the "act". So that's what we did. And that was how he made his money._

_The clubs were wild in that part of the country. Those people really knew how to party. The girls danced totally naked and it wasn't uncommon to have two girls dance together…kissing and touching was encouraged and eventually expected. The guys got off on it and the cash rolled in. Everybody won. I felt comfortable with Mia so that's what we did._

_I was dressed in a skimpy pair of panties, heels, and a tee shirt with no bra. On this night, Gus had the bright idea for us to try a wrestling theme. I rolled my eyes. Oh the irony of that one. Two hot chicks rolling around in body paint…licking each other. It was a full and rowdy house. Yep…I was definitely gonna need a shot of Vodka for that one. Or three!_

"_Gentlemen, please welcome to the stage, Starr and Sascha…"_

_Those were our respective stage names, being called Starr after several star designs inked all over my body. The lights lowered and we began the routine, I got into it…it was like going into a zone. Honestly, I had never given a "happy ending" in the private dance room, had never gone home with a customer. Some of them were terribly unattractive. Some of them were gorgeous. Some had money to blow, others were living pay check to pay check, tipping me with next week's grocery money. I had my regulars, some I actually had conversations with but none ever really stirred my interest. No, not like that. It was just a job. Hell, that was the only thing separating me from the customers...well, they were just a bunch of horny men. Nothing more or less.  
_

_But on this night, there was one particular guy that sort of stood out from all the rest for some reason. I noticed him almost from the second I stepped out onto the stage. He was tall. There was an unkempt mass of reddish, brownish hair stuffed under a baseball cap that had been douchely turned to the side. He wore a plain tee shirt and jeans. He was loud and obnoxious and putting away the alcohol like nobody's business. He looked at me in almost a creepy way but um…it didn't creep me out._

_Our eyes met again and I savored the moment, fighting back the urge to cheese all over myself. I looked up and at the same time, so did he. It was this electrifying, literal magical moment that is hard to explain. Moments like that only happen in the movies usually. I guess aside from all those fairytales I used to read, in reality, I had never really believed in love at first sight. Was such a thing even possible? Could two human beings fall madly into true love just by looking at one another? That theory was tested. It may sound silly, but I looked at him and I knew. I just knew. You know?  
_

_He sauntered up to the stage, staring me down, eyes glazed over. I was moving my hips seductively to the beat of the loud music while Mia was on her knees, her hands caressing my inner thighs. I knew he liked what he saw…what guy wouldn't? I also saw the two 20 dollar bills in his hand. He stared at us for a while, guzzling beer, then he gave an evil grin and tossed some change onto the stage before walking off as he stuffed the bills back in his pockets. Tipping a dancer with change is an insult, if you haven't figured it out and I was pissed. He thought he was being clever. I picked up what I could and chucked it back at him._

"_Hey! Fuck you, asshole!"_

_He turned and smirked._

"_You talking to me?"_

_His eyes were amazing. I gave him a disgusted look before walking to the back to clean up. About 15 minutes later, Gus came and found me. _

"_You've been specially requested kid," he grinned, smacking on his gum, dollar signs in his eyes._

"_Great," I muttered._

"_You don't want to know what this guy paid for you."_

"_Mia too?"_

"_Nope…just you."_

_I made a face. It was probably the shy, balding guy sitting nervously at the side table wearing a designer suit that his potbelly threatened to pop out of at any minute. But when I entered the room, much to my surprise, it was someone else._

"_What the fuck?" I looked at him, hands on my hips._

_He leaned back in the chair, hands cockily behind his head._

"_Start dancing," he commanded._

_I was tempted to tell him to go fuck himself but Gus would have a coronary and I couldn't lose that job. So I gave the change throwing fuck face a lap dance. Naked as the day I was born, I grinded my hips, touched my own body, and tossed my hair back and forth. Out of spite, I turned it up a little, just to screw with him. It worked…sort of. The bulge in his jeans was huge and rock hard. But his facial expression…that creepy poker face, those intense eyes, never changed._

"_Hope you got your 75 cents worth," I said when it was done._

"_What's your name?" he ignored me._

"_Starr."_

_He smirked._

"_Not your stripper name. Your real one."_

_I was taken off guard. I wasn't expecting that._

"_Why?"_

"_Cause I want to know," he shrugged. "I'm Mox but um…that's kind of my stage name."_

_It was my turn to smirk._

"_You a stripper, too?"_

"_In your dreams, sweetheart," he did not miss a beat. "So I'll tell you mine if you tell me yours."_

_I rolled my eyes._

"_Hope you enjoyed your dance. Good night, Mox."_

_I went backstage and got dressed and drank and talked to a few of my regulars and got some more tips. I ended up leaving around six in the morning. I noticed that "Mox" guy and his friends were still hanging around. He saw me and walked towards me, causing me to mumble under my breath._

"_Where you going?" he asked. "You headed home?"_

"_Yeah," I finally answered, as it was impossible to scoot around his large frame. "I'm going home. It's late…early. You know what I mean."_

"_Why don't you come party with us?"_

"_No thanks."_

"_Why you gotta be like that? Come on. What's the big deal? It'll be fun."_

"_I said no."_

"_Your friend is going."_

_I looked up. Sure enough Mia, laughing and living it up had joined them. She looked up, waved, and smiled, beckoning me to come over._

"_Fuck," I whispered._

_He chuckled._

"_The hell's your problem? You scared? You think I'm a serial killer or something?"_

_I couldn't help but smile. Come to think of it, he did kind of look like one._

"_Look, dude, Mox…whatever. I don't know you."_

"_I'm Jon. My name is Jon and I am a respectable guy," he slurred._

"_Really? And what is it that you do, Jon, that is so respectable?" I inquired._

"_I'm a professional wrestler. You probably never heard of that shit, huh? You probably don't even know what that is."_

_I was surprised. He had no idea. But he definitely had my attention._

"_You got coke?" I looked up at him._

_He grinned._

"_Yeah, we got coke. Good stuff."_

"_Beer?"_

"_Yep. We got some beer, too. But uh…I figure we eat some breakfast first, you know. Eggs and oatmeal and pancakes and shit. It's the most important meal of the day."_

_Great…a nutrition conscious drunk. I looked over at Mia and against my better judgment but not willing to ignore that feeling Jon aka Mox evoked inside of me, I shrugged and followed him…_

I'll never forget that night and next day. It was the day my life changed forever. It was the day I met Jon. It was the day I fell in love with Jon. Maybe it wasn't a fairytale like the ones I used to read when I was a kid, but at least I had something now to believe in.


End file.
